A story about what a grandpa should be.

My dad was always the quiet, reserved soul. He loved us kids, that I do know. But he had the gruff exterior that made it hard for him to show emotions. {Iam sure there are those out there, who know atleast one person who matches these characteristics.}


And then something wonderful happend. Something I never imagined. My dad became a grandpa. We've all heard it. "Things become alot more relaxed when you are a grandparent." My dad is living proof of this. He would do anything for his grandchildren. He takes them on tractor rides. He pushes them up and down the driveway on the wheelbarrow. He gives them far too many "treats," and candies.


Before I was born, my father fantasized about having a daddies girl. Sadly, that just wasn't the case. I was a momma's girl through and through. That doesn't mean he didn't treat me any less of a daddies girl, even though I didn't return the favor. Then Sarah was born. She was the first girl in the family. My brother had two boys, and after Sarah I went on to have two boys. My dad has played barbies.... my dad has played tea party... my dad has painted toes and had his toes painted. {Yes he is that good!}


He loves his "Nikki." {"Nikki" came from her middle name Nicole, and my dad is netorious for pet names.}  Not to say he doesn't love the boys that much as well... but I believe there is something magical about him getting a second chance with his daughters, daughter.


Savannah, was going to bring even more girly delight into my dad's grandparenting years. Although he would never admit it, he showed signs throughout my pregnancy that he was excited. His little "Samantha."


On that last night headed down to Sacramento, my dad had only one request. If she had to go that night, he asked that she be baptised. It was important to him. She was important to him.


As I've said before Savannah was baptised that night before we held her for the last time. After she had passed and we placed her back into the doctors arms, I asked where they were taking her that night. They told me they would take her down stairs to the morgue. I cried. What an awful, cold name. Morgue. I asked how she would get home. The doctor told me that once I made arrangement at the funeral home, they would drive down and bring her back. Still dreadful. Savannah didn't know those people. Where they going to treat her as the beautiful baby that she was, and is? I didn't like it, but I had no choice. 


Little did I know, that as we drove home that night my dad was going to yet again, step in and save the day. He is a retired Captin of the California Highway Patrol, so as you can imagine, he knows alot of people. He called an old friend, whom used to be a motitian. Then he proceeded to call Allen and Dahl funeral home and make arrangements. In the two and a half hours it took for us to make the drive home, my father had already arranged to be the one whom brought Savannah home. I don't know how he did it, but I didn't ask. I didn't need to know. Savannah would be in safe hands.


The next morning, Jim Allen from the funeral home, met my dad and Van, {the old friend} at my house to hand off the legal paperwork needed to hand over custody of a body and bring them back. And let me tell you there was a lot of paperwork. My dad then asked for one of her blankets. Instead of handing over the polka dot blanket she had with her in the hospital, I gave him the pink blanket that him and my mom had bought for her. It had a little giraffe in the bottom corner. There was no way I would part with the other one. It still smelled like her. 


After they had left, I asked my mother, "she isn't going to have to ride home in a body bag is she?" My mom nodded sadly, "yes, I think she will." I tried to hold back tears. "Then why did dad ask for her blanket?" My mom told me she didn't know. I hated that as well. A body bag. Another awful word.


That evening when my dad finally made it back and dropped Savannah off at the funeral home, he called to tell us the events of the day. UC Davis attorney had to get involved. There was more paperwork than he ever imagined. But he filled it out. For her. Savannah didn't ride home in a body bag. Her grandpa delicatly wrapped her precious body in her pink giraffe blanket. Savannah rode cradled in the backseat of the car. Savannah and Grandpa finally got to meet.


My dad has done many things for me over the years of my life. But because my daddy went to the ends of the earth for my deceased babygirl, I know there isn't anything I can ever say or do to repay him for nurturing her body back home to her mommy. I have eternal love and gratitude for him.

It was a journey that Samantha, and Grandpa had to make together.

She will always be her Grandpa's Girl.